


Chase Away Our Sorrows

by Tengwar



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:07:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tengwar/pseuds/Tengwar
Summary: September 1817Dear Miles,Ben is dead. You are much needed here.Rachel.





	Chase Away Our Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this years ago and then took it down - but I'm putting it back here because it belongs here more than it does in a file on my computer!!
> 
> Ah Revolution - those were the days - re reading this really took me back!!

September 1817  
Dear Miles,  
Ben is dead. You are much needed here.

Rachel.

 

April 1818  
Dear Miles,  
It is with deep sadness that I write to inform you of your brother’s death and beg your return home. Benjamin met his untimely death in March on the road travelling to London. As you know your brother's death leaves you as the head of the Matheson family, of the estate, and perhaps most pressingly as the guardian of your young niece Charlotte who has come of age.   
I regret to inform you that your family's affairs have become sadly tangled.  
Your immediate return to London is much required. Put bluntly Miles, you must return.  
Immediately prior to his death your brother had begun to make arrangements for a match between Charlotte and Lord Neville's son. It is seen to be an advantageous match for both though you may think differently once you have been apprised of the nature of your family’s affairs. I may not much longer be able to hold off the wedding plans.  
Indeed knowing the nature of your relations with Lord Neville when commissioned as an officer in the wars I wonder if you would really consider supporting the match.   
I fear the death of her husband so closely following the death of your nephew has sorely damaged your sister in law but I assure you Miles, any hint of the old scandal has long since died down and your return to London in these circumstances would be unremarkable. This is the third letter I have sent to ask your return home. I write in hope that this letter finds you well and urges you home to London at once.  
Your old friend,  
Jeremy.

Miles sighed deeply and looked across the room at Bass. Bass was talking persuasively into the ear of a young opera singer who was sitting on his lap and looking very much like a cat with a bowl of cream. Feeling Miles dark eyes on him he looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. Miles waved the letter at him and Bass stood up, tipping the young singer on to the chair beside him and straightening his clothes as he sauntered over.  
Miles stood up and passed him the letter.  
'It seems Sebastian,' he paused and knocked back a large glass of whisky in one eye watering swallow, 'It seems that my reputation in London is to be resurrected. My brother is dead. I have been named head of my family and guardian to my niece Charlotte. I must return.'  
Bass scanned the letter and flinched.  
'I'm sorry about Ben'.  
'Yes. So am I.'  
Two weeks later they arrived in London.  
The butler announced their arrival at the Matheson town home. Rachel stood as they entered the sitting room of the Mayfair town home she had considered home since her marriage. Her skin pale against the black of mourning dress.  
Rachel looked over her brother in law and his oldest friend. Clearly nothing much had changed. The letters from home had taken a full 8 months to find Miles as he travelled the length of the continent drinking and debauching as he went. Matheson and Monroe had a fearsome reputation at home and abroad. They had drunk away the stench of war, the brutalities they had faced. Their terrible personal losses. They had gambled at high stakes games and duelled. They were known rakes and libertines. Their wildness, following the sell out of their military commissions, had been the talk of every drawing room and country party for years. Debutantes and married women alike fell prey to their charms. Young men of the ton aped their exploits and the fashion of their neck cloths and capes from the safety of hunting parties and routs.   
Rachel offered them tea. When the family butler hovered uncertainly Rachel relented and nodded towards the whisky decanter. Miles and Bass breathed out matching sighs of relief. Conversation was stilted, the old scandal sitting heavily between them through all the old fire had long since faded. Rachel and Miles were nothing more than brother and sister now though once they had been more.  
'Will you be moving into your residences Miles?'  
'No, god no, Rachel, you and Charlie can remain living here and use the estate as long as you need. This is your home.’  
'You do not plan to settle in England?'  
'No.'

A sound at the door and Charlotte entered. Miles remembered a taking four year old with an eye for wildness and her uncle's second son regiment buttons and glossy boots. There was nothing of that four year old in the composed young lady who stood before them, hair pulled back austerely from her face. Plain clothes high collared.  
'Uncle Miles.’ She said curtseying. 'You are here at last.'  
'Little Charlie' he said in surprise.  
'Not so little as you may plainly see.'  
"You remember my oldest friend Sebastian Monroe?  
She nodded her head towards him. Even more than her uncle Sebastian Monroe’s reputation for gambling, duelling and womanising his way across the continent was legendary.  
'Mr Monroe, of course.'  
'You must call me Bass.'  
Bass saw a proper young woman dressed in muslin. Lazily he eyed her up and down. It was habit. Under the somber clothes she was lovely. A very beautiful Matheson indeed.  
She dismissed the tremor of awareness that travelled through her and pushed down the jolt of feeling. A rake like him he was used to making young ladies squirm with such a look. She ignored him and sat next to her mother on the sofa. The tension in the room reached even higher.  
Rachel finally spoke.  
'You must make your enquires with Ben's man of business, I mean your man of business.' She said slightly flustered. Miles waved away her worry.  
'I will meet with Jeremy Baker in the morning.'  
Rachel shifted uneasily on her seat. Miles turned to Charlotte.   
'I understand you have reached an agreement with the Neville boy Charlotte?'  
A fleeting look of anger crossed Charlotte’s face before she managed to control her emotions and she made her face blank. Bass leaned forward to watch her more closely at this and she fought the urge to steal her hand up to check her hair and pull at her neckline. Goodness, the man was unsettling.   
'Jason and I have known each other these last few years and had formed an .... attachment. The Neville’s have been very good to us since my poor father’s death. It will be an honour to join our two families.' She said solemnly.   
'It is not a love match then?' Bass interjected as he shifted forward in his seat and looked at her.  
Charlotte blushed, a deep red stain high on her cheeks and down her throat. She shook her head slightly.  
‘Charlotte!’ Rachel snapped. ‘I’m sure your uncle and his friend are not interested in every detail of your finer feelings. The marriage has been announced and the banns read. There is nothing further to discuss.’   
Miles sighed heavily and stood, helping himself to another drink and leaning his arm on the mantel.  
'I confess I cannot like the match. Lord Neville and I are ...not good friends.’ Miles said. In truth they had considered each other enemies since they had both been commissioned officers serving overseas in the French wars. Miles and Neville had never seen eye to eye in any way. There had been days the hard campaign of battle had seemed minor when compared to their own personal skirmishes. Neville had never accepted being overlooked for promotion as Matheson and Monroe had risen through the ranks so effortlessly. His bitterness had coloured every interaction. It had seemed he would never recover from the slight.  
Neville had lately inherited his title from a distant cousin and was no doubt as manipulative and self-serving as ever. What could be his motivation to tie their families together in this way now?   
To Charlotte he said. ‘What is the rush to marry, if not for love? Surely there are other men to marry if this one does not truly please you? You are only just eighteen Charlotte and quite beautiful.'  
Charlotte blushed even higher. Really, she was charming, thought Bass.  
'The Neville’s have been good to us.’ Charlotte repeated. ‘My father planned this marriage for me with my best interest at heart. I would not change course now.'   
She looked down at her hands crossed in her lap. Rachel sighed impatiently.  
'I see.' Miles said. But he did not.

 

Later that night Miles and Bass sat drinking quietly before the small fire in the rooms they had taken at the Carlton Hotel. Bass kept on worrying over the problem of Charlotte.  
'She’s eighteen years of age Miles, she shouldn't be so sad and serious.'  
'She's in mourning Bass.'  
'And Lord Neville’s son... what could be worse? He is a pawn in the hands of bloody Neville and his awful, managing wife.'  
'Bass, if Ben thought the match a good one and Charlotte is pleased with it what can I say?'  
'She's young Miles to be considering such a marriage. Why not ask her to join us in Paris for the summer…’ Bass paused when he realised Miles had begun watching him strangely. ‘We can find some respectable woman to act as chaperone. She need only tell Neville she won’t have him and the thing is done.’  
'Most girls are married by her age Bass, leave it alone. I will talk to Jeremy tomorrow and find out what I can, however if she insists I don't know what can be gained by trying to change her mind.'  
'She should be giggling and stealing kisses and dancing the waltz.' Bass insisted.  
'Bass. It is clearly not in her nature.'  
Bass raised an eyebrow over his drink at Miles. But Miles was lost in his own thoughts and did not seem to notice.  
The following day Miles made his way alone to Jeremy Baker’s offices. Jeremy Baker, his family's man of business settled him into a seat. Miles had known him as a young man had always a good impression of him. Now he was watching him curiously as Jeremy fussed nervously with some papers at his desk before joining Miles at the lounge.  
'Miles. My deepest sympathies.' Jeremy began. 'It is so good to have you home.   
Miles nodded.   
'I will not prevaricate Miles. I am afraid I have some rather worrying to relate about the state of your estates and the holdings that form your inheritance.'  
Miles sat up straighter. Here was a surprise. His father had been moderately wealthy and very careful. Ben had been so very much like him.  
'What's this? I thought in your letter you referred being in 'tangle' you meant to Charlotte’s ill-considered engagement.’  
'Well yes, Miles, in part.’ Jeremy took a deep breath. ‘I am very sorry to tell you that the estate has been heavily mortgaged in your absence.'  
'But why? What on earth? What has happened?’  
Jeremy settled into the couch and began to talk.  
'I beg you to understand that I did not advise them so, in fact I did everything in my power to dissuade them from their course of action. However, Ben and your sister in law became heavily interested in the science of mechanisation and steam engines. Encouraged by some early success and the interest of their friends…’ here Jeremy paused and grimaced. ‘They mortgaged the house to fund the development of a new kind of steam engine and later to explore the use of gas lighting. It was their consuming passion.’  
‘Daniel was quite interested in their work of course, before his unfortunate death. Rachel in particular was much pleased that their head for invention ran in the family. She has been devastated by his loss, Miles, devastated. She cares for nothing but science and books these days and plans to retire completely from public life after Charlotte is married. Poor Charlotte….she had been much alone through all this. Just as likely to be found in the library tracing through atlases and reading about old battles than considering the benefits of mechanisation… always was the odd one out .’ He sighed. ‘But I digress.’  
‘Ben sunk all their funds into a new kind of engineering project. I confess I don't understand at all what they used to talk about. Something about pneumatics and pistons.'   
A long silence drew out between them. The tick of the clock.  
'What can you mean? Did they spend all the money?' Asked Miles, astonished.  
'Almost.'  
‘Is there nothing left?’  
‘Well. Very little.’  
Miles sat back in his chair. Speechless.   
'And who holds all the mortgages?'  
'Lord Neville, of course.... and well, he told your brother and Rachel it would not matter even if their plans failed. They would be family when his son and Charlotte married, no need for fuss between family'.  
Miles shoulders tensed. He stood. Fists clenched.  
'And Rachel knows all this and still encourages the match?'  
Jeremy said nothing.  
'But this is impossible, Charlotte cannot be made to pay for her parents mistakes.'  
'I have asked her to reconsider but she is resolute. She feels her duty pressing heavily. I do not think she will be swayed. She is determined to marry the Neville boy and says that it is not his fault his father and you did not get on in the past. She plans to do the honourable thing, though heaven only knows she will be made miserable. Even if you were to forbid the match Miles I think she would continue in this awful plan.'  
'Jeremy, we must do something.'  
'Of course Miles. I am at your service. But without money to pay the mortgages...?' Miles grimaced and shook his head and glared out the window.  
God help him, they would have to find some way to get the money. They would have to find some way to stop Charlotte making this terrible   
Bass was lingering in the lending library in the hopes of seeing Charlotte when he came across her and her maid with a large stack of books. It was no accident that he was there. He had tipped both a maid and butler at Charlotte’s home handsomely for information about how best to find their young mistress.  
'Charlotte' he greeted her warmly. Startled she looked up at him in surprise before schooling her features into blankness. Was that pleasure he had glimpsed before she had composed herself?  
'Miss Matheson, if you please Mr Monroe.’  
'I have known you since you were a girl, Charlotte.'  
'If you insist, Mr Monroe.'   
She made to move off, dipping a brief curtsey in his direction. She felt flustered, inwardly acknowledging that the strange pull of attraction or interest she had felt in his presence in her mother’s drawing room had returned. She tried to step past him but found herself being pulled deeper into the shop. Bass was having none of her leaving. She felt her bonnet slip back from her head and looked up at the man in front of her. Feeling breathless and shy but.... Alive. This was the most daring she had ever been. Perhaps her upcoming marriage was upsetting her equilibrium?  
'Tell me Charlotte, are you borrowing romances to prepare your feelings for your upcoming nuptials?' He asked in a low voice.  
Charlotte coloured. Ah there was that blush he enjoyed so much. He leant against the bookshelf relishing the way she fought against feeling flustered by him.  
'I am sure I will have no need for such preparations. Jason and I...well we will make a good marriage'.  
Bass could not help but notice the careful steadiness in her voice. No bride to be was ever less giddy.  
'I believe most brides would be looking forward to their special day... one week out from her wedding. But you... you have put me rights on the matter and I thank you for it. Pray what is it you are reading in preparation for the momentous occasion.... aha I see... a “Detailed Guide to Roman Aqueducts”... fascinating.’ She looked up at him eyes enormous. The urge to lean down and kiss her was enormous. He shook his head as if to clear his mind.   
‘Tell me Charlotte, do you plan to read this book in bed aloud to your new husband? He will no doubt find it very …enlivening.'   
She blushed again and he handed back the book, watched as the tremor of tension he felt between them crowded her awareness.  
'I have already admitted it is no love match.' She whispered urgently at him. 'What business is this marriage of yours?'  
'I am your uncle's oldest friend Charlotte' he whispered back. 'He has been my only family this many years and that makes it my concern if not my business.'  
'Thank you, it is neither.' She said as crushingly as she could.  
'If you could explain one thing?'   
He placed his large hand gently on her arm. Deep in the shadows of the bookshelves she was aware no one was watching. She felt a flutter of daring all of a sudden and somehow more herself than she had done for months.  
'One thing, Mr Monroe?  
'Why don't you hold out for something more?  
'More?' she ignored the slight shake in her voice.  
'Love'  
'Love? Mr Monroe.'  
He waited. She gathered herself together. Remembered what was a stake and shook his hand from her arm.  
'Love? Amusing from a man who has built a reputation on pursuing everything but.'  
He paused. Much struck by the honesty of her reply though undeterred. His eyes dropped to her lips.  
'Desire then. Passion.'  
She cleared her throat. No reply came to mind.  
‘You should not speak to me thus'.  
He laughed and stepped even closer to her.  
'You cannot know how often that has been said to me.'   
She smiled reluctantly and he felt a throb of victory.  
'Charlotte?'  
'Yes?' she breathed as he leaned close.  
'A girl as beautiful and...' he tipped his head towards her books, 'well read as you should want more than safety and practicality in her mate.'  
'What should she want?' She licked her lips and looked up at him, eyes huge. He felt his heart thump over in his chest and there was nothing he could do about that.  
'Me.'  
He stepped back in surprise. Astonished that word had slipped from his lips. He bowed. She curtseyed. They parted ways.  
Charlotte was dressing for the Neville’s annual ball. She sat distracted at her table while her maid dressed her hair. It had been the most exciting, exhausting confusing week of her life. Her uncle and Bass’ return to London had brought with it a window to a life about which she had always dreamed. Travel, wonders and curiosities. They had been a thousand wonderful places, palaces, plantations, wild untamed ports and they told her tales of their exploits through the cities of North Africa, the mountains of Spain and the exotic cities of the continent. Charlotte had hung on every word enraptured, her imagination fired with stories of the wonders she had read and dreamed over for years. It had been a most wonderful week.  
No matter how she steeled herself as she readied herself off tonight's ball her mind returned to thinking of him. Mr Monroe. Bass. They had fought of course. When Miles had explained her situation he had been enraged. Why should Charlotte pay for the pride of the Mathesons? Bass had declared she should leave for Paris with them and could not comprehend that Charlotte could seriously prefer a marriage to Jason Neville to leaving London and travelling to the continent with him and her Uncle. He tried to persuade at every turn. He had flirted, cajoled, tried to seduce. She had been secretly thrilled. She had told him she was unmoved.  
‘Mr Monroe, would you have me give up a respectable marriage to pursue an…. affaire with you?’ She had asked one night when he had pulled her too close in a waltz at another blazing ton ball.   
‘I am not thinking of an affaire Charlotte, I was thinking of something more…’  
‘Ah, then you are suggesting I could become your mistress, what does my uncle say to that plan?’  
‘Indeed Charlotte, I did not say that either.’  
‘Then what Sebastian?’ He smiled at her use of his name and pulled her close again. She pulled away again and said with a grimace, ‘People will talk about me, please do not hold me so close.’   
‘You goad me with talk of waiting for a love match and then ask me to leave my home with you. No love match there either is there?'   
He said nothing for a moment.  
'Ah there is my answer. No, thank you.' She continued when he started to protest. 'I will take my chance with Jason. He is perfectly nice and I will at least attain the respectability of wife.’  
‘Charlotte, Miles and I will take care of you.’  
‘What a wonderful thought.’  
The dance had ended and they had parted unhappily. He had returned her to her mothers side before stalking off to Miles on the other side of the room, glaring at her from between the crowds.  
Back in her bedroom as she readied for the ball and her maid placed one last pin, Charlotte gazed at her reflection in the mirror. It was getting harder to know what to do. She was so very tempted.  
Bass looked around the Nevilles' ballroom scanning for Charlotte. Beside him Miles surveyed the crowd too. They both saw Charlotte at the same time. Standing with the Neville's she looked quiet, dignified and utterly miserable. Bass felt equally bleak. The wedding would take place in a few days. No one had been able to persuade Charlotte to break the engagement.  
Miles had been desperately seeking funds from business partners in London and abroad in any measured attempt to raise the capital to pay off the mortgages but the amounts were staggering. The Neville’s had reeled in the Matheson family estate and good name and stripped it of all its value.   
There was no hope. Charlotte was stubbornly refusing to change course. Miles had never before seen the look Bass got in his eye when he talked about Charlotte. He did not know whether to thank the heavens that Bass so easily understand the urgency of the situation or rue the fact that they had ever met. Bass had been struck. It was clear.  
'Bass, as much as you are a dear friend, indeed a brother to me and that of course we must do something about the situation Charlotte finds herself in....'   
Bass was amused. Miles was so clearly uncomfortable.  
'Yes, Miles?'  
'You needn't think I intend you to save Charlotte from this ill-fated marriage yourself.'  
'Ah, but Miles I do intend to save her... and myself....'  
He caught her eye across the ballroom. Every part of her warning him away or calling him in. He could not be sure, even now.  
The whole room seemed to slow and take long deep breath as they watched him walk across the ballroom to her side. London was on the toes of its next scandal! What could be better proof of the rumours that had been swirling around all week like wildfire. She had been seen kissing him in the lending library, at the national gallery. He had ruined her at the Walton's card party. They had ridden in Hyde Park in the mornings unchaperoned. (This rumour at least was true; Bass had taken great pleasure from seeing Charlotte exulting as she urged her mount faster than was suitable for a young lady and let her hair streak behind. She had laughed, dizzy with the thrill of doing something unexpected.) That morning had ended with him taking her hand and pressing a quietly intent kiss onto her knuckles. And then her palm. All along her arm. His lips to her neck. The line of her chin. The dip behind her ear as she shivered deliciously in his arms. Once and only once pressing his lips to hers. Oh he ached to think about it.  
When Bass asked her, urged her, pleaded with her to leave with him and go to Paris she had only reaffirmed her intent to marry Jason. Leaving him fuming and confused. He had turned and walked away. She had not see him since. Miles had returned to see her in her mothers drawing room as she sat miserably contemplating her future. He had been unable to raise the capital to repay Lord Neville. She was unable to imagine a future outside the strictures, the safety of English society.  
And here she was standing by the Neville's side at a ball, two days before her wedding. Miserable. Charlotte looked across as uncle and his friend made their way to her side.  
'Miss Matheson, would you honour me with this dance?' Bass bowed before her.  
The whole ballroom seemed to wait on her answer. Would Charlotte have the courage?  
He gave her no more time to consider. He swept her into the dance and pressed his strong fingers against her back. She looked at him, challenge in her eyes as they sailed across the room. He could see. She could not believe him. Every rumour and long told tale of his past settling hard between them. Even now she could not be sure of him. What else could he do to prove himself to her?

At the side of the room Miles turned to Lord Neville.  
'Matheson.' snarled Lord Neville.  
'Neville. My niece seems to be having a change of heart.' Miles could not keep the smirk from his tone.  
'Don’t play the fool Miles.' Said Neville. 'Let us face the sad truth. I have you by the neck. There can be no way to save your niece and your family’s good name now.'  
Lord Neville continued smiled all the while looking about him as he nodded bland greetings to his guests.   
'And now your niece. She will make her choice wisely no doubt. A sensible girl, no matter if her head has been too easily turned by a pretty face just at the minute.’  
They both turned to look as Charlotte and Bass swept by, their faces glowing and humming with closeness.  
'I have no doubt a girl as gently bred as Charlotte will make the right decision, after all, your estate, the proud Matheson name depends on it and I will be able to teach her much about how to get on in society... once she is my daughter in law.' Menace dripped from his voice. There was no doubt Charlotte would be held to account for more than just her father’s debts. Miles flinched and fisted his hands with fury. He would kill before allowing Neville to ruin his niece.  
Lord Neville's laughter was mocking.  
'Either she marries my son or I will turn you and your niece and your sister in law out on the street.'  
‘You have badly underestimated me Neville and I will not forget it.' A vein throbbed in his temple. His eyes narrowed as he stared down into Neville's face. Every muscle in his body poised for fight. Around him the room exploded in a thrum of whispers.  
‘Are you threatening me?’ Neville’s asked enraged.  
Miles looked around him the whispers of gossip already unfurling through the room. He felt tired all of a sudden. Scandal and London. Such a familiar tale. He looked at Bass and Charlotte still dancing. Whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him and he turned on his heel and stalked towards the door.  
From the centre of the ballroom Bass saw Miles leaving. Watching the ripples of gossip following his oldest friend again. Clearly diplomacy had been thrown to the winds. There would be no peace in London for any of them now. He sighed. Abruptly he stopped dancing and Charlotte stumbled against him. She followed the line of his eyes and watched her uncle leave the ballroom.  
'Well?'  
She had shied off so many times. Would she choose any different now?   
'Charlotte.’ He said urgently. ‘There is no more time. I know it will be strange and different for you to leave England and go with us to Paris but you must change your mind and agree to come. Forget what you have known about my past, my reputation. You know how deeply I feel for you. There is nothing left for you here. Think of this as your life’s great opportunity. You may close your books and see with your own eyes everything you have always read and dreamed of. What is it to be? A life of sad predictability and obedience with your fiancé or a life of great adventure and love with me?'  
She looked towards the Neville's, Lady Neville hissing under her breath for Charlotte to join them immediately, Lord Neville's fury clear in the tight line of his mouth. The misery on Jason's face giving her a moment’s pause. She thought of her mother. Remote and unreachable. Her father now dead. Her brother gone.   
Charlotte looked up at Bass. His face had become unimaginably dear to her.  
She took a deep breath.  
'My father and brother are dead. My mother plans to retire to the country with her science and books. What need have I for safety? What use will sad predictability and obedience be to me when I yearn for the pleasures of you?'  
His eyes blazed. He swallowed hard but said nothing.   
She took his hand. It was done.

 

Miles and Bass watched the loading of their trunks onto the packet ship for Calais.  
A few feet away Charlotte watched the hustle of the busy port and the trunks being carried on board.  
She turned and smiled at Bass and her uncle before walking towards the gangway.  
'You will marry her Bass.' Miles said.  
It was not a question.  
'Miles. I would marry her today, a hundred times.'  
Miles sighed again. Bass looked over at him and laughed. Miles raised an eyebrow in question.  
‘Don’t look so worried Miles. We may all yet be very happy. I have absolutely every intention of it.’  
‘I never imagined you married and happy, least of all to my niece.’   
‘Nor I Miles, but really it so much better this way.’  
‘What way?’  
‘To chase down our happiness, Miles, rather than chase away our sorrows.’   
He clapped him around the shoulders and they walked aboard together, joining Charlotte at the rail


End file.
